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Ondrej’s Poetry Posts

Conversations

Published by Ondrej on March 30, 2020

Don’t fret
I remember what you said
and the way you looked
the last time we met.

Every detail of every glance
Yours, thoughtful, patient interest
Mine, the same, but with a dance
Hidden deep within my chest.

Your life, full of accomplishments
A gobsmacking list of achievements
Mine, a bit more restrained
One destiny has not yet ordained.

There aren’t many things I can do
Take a picture, write a poem or two
While you, it seems
have already fulfilled your dreams.

Someone to look up to, be inspired by
Not even knowing you helped me fly.

Quarantine 3

Published by Ondrej on March 30, 2020

As we enter week three,
there is not much left to see.
My hands are rubbed raw;
my nails, there is nothing left to gnaw.

Just rice in the pantry,
maybe some spaghetti…
My appetite is paltry,
and our conversations are petty.

There is some positivity:
I have plenty of ink.
Though, at times, mediocre creativity
to practice doublethink.

If only she knew

Published by Ondrej on March 30, 2020

I look into her eyes:
they are like a sunlit forest,
a terrestrial Lothlorien.
Green and brown,
rich, lively earthly hues
I’m already lost in them, to be honest.
My breath comes out in sighs,
she is smiling:
a real comedienne.

Moments like these
could last forever;
and in a way, they do.
Forever on replay
in my mind,
if only, if only she knew.

She won’t ask
and I won’t tell her.
How could you?
You can’t say
that every second
since that fateful day
I’ve been wanting to tell you
that what I feel is true.

It’s a shame that moment never happened;
you were never that close.
Your eyes, only distant;
not glancing my way,
not even for an instant.
On a picture I hold
as my hands tremble.
At least the tears, I mumble,
wash away the dust as they tumble.

Quarantine 2

Published by Ondrej on March 27, 2020

‘Tis strange, this predicament of isolation.
Never have such attempts been made
to lock down an entire nation;
for times have gone past the nascent state of aid.

“Unprecedented” is said on every frequency,
promptly followed by “don’t panic”;
only guess what people do: hoard greedily,
descending rapidly into a state of manic.

A far cry from times when this was “just a flu”;
now, the crematoriums are packed full.
There is no place left to queue;
simply pronouncing the death count is a mouthful.

In many places, no time for mourning
for it is a war in peacetime.
Eventually, hopefully, this will bring a new morning
when the disease will be past its prime.

But that day seems indeed a long way off;
a glimmer, a glint at the end of the tunnel.
These thoughts arrive as I stifle a cough;
it is time to rest my head upon the flannel
and spare a thought for those
whose times are more morose.

Uncle Claude

Published by Ondrej on March 26, 2020

Romeo and Juliet never met,
Shakespeare was a lie.
My cat is not a pet,
stop making that sigh!

Their relationship, a fraud
Like everything nowadays.
An example, Uncle Claude,
all he does is go on holidays.
His accounts, nothing to applaud:
setting stacks of cash ablaze.

But this fiery stack
doesn’t help Claude unpack.
Since he’s stuck on a ship,
he left the captain no tip.

His behaviour is appalling,
he should just be left there;
but then he wouldn’t stop telling
people about Shakespeare’s made-up pair.

The ambulance

Published by Ondrej on March 26, 2020

An azure-blue sky
so bright, shining.
The sun set into it,
like a gem,
a glowing amber,
radiating heat,
radiating life.

And the bumblebees bumble by bushes
looking lost.
But this is what we think.
With our big societies,
rich civilisations, think.

A glimpse of a bright car
on the road
a van, flashing lights.
Oh no, I think.
Not again.
Not here.

Screeching suddenly, it stops.
Suited-up silhouettes sprinting.
A rush,
a deathly urgency.

Life is in slow motion
now even more so
like pressing ‘rewind’
on a remote with no batteries.

A person, on a stretcher
comes out.
The masks and gloves
slam doors
and all of it
is over.
As quickly as it began.

That’s life
or what remains of it
under quarantine.

I’m not tired!

Published by Ondrej on March 26, 2020

I’m not tired
I’m wide awake.
With eyes bulging
and adrenaline rushing
sleep is no option to make.

I’d go flying,
But I have no plane
I’d start reading
But the sentences are too long.

I’m sitting,
not lying down.
Upright, back straight
or that’s what I think.

Glancing at the downy duvet,
the plump pillows,
the mellow mattress
I reflect.
Is this what I want?
To melt into its supple embrace?
But I’m not tired!

I won’t sleep.
I’ll conquer the world
become President
or an astronaut!

Tomorrow.

Emotions

Published by Ondrej on March 24, 2020

An adrenaline rush
from your stomach
to your head – soaring

Pent-up tension
needing to evaporate
but instead
it just keeps rising, pushing
boiling, steaming
needing to
get out.

Is it love? Affection?
Or more,
a kind of anger,
frustration?

They say you should breathe
“count to ten”
or whatever.
Does it really work
if you’re
suffering?

Quarantine

Published by Ondrej on March 23, 2020

My beard has grown long,
many protein-made appendages;
it was quite a bodily throng.

We can listen to Dire Straits
and scribble on tree derivatives.
We have not yet met our fates
and we shouldn’t see our relatives.

This is a time for family unity
except, from a distance
and perhaps worshipping a deity.
It provides much-needed resonance
in a house, now a community.

Meet your friends, can you not;
only through a digital medium
can you see their untidy cot
while they’re playing games marked “freemium”.

Who knows how long this will last;
at least I’ve got time to fantasise
about all the ladies I’ve made aghast.